Grayson's Fate
by BrokenLullabyox
Summary: Dick Grayson thought that losing his parents was the worst thing that could happen to him. Little did he know that the Court of Owls had plans for his life that he didn't expect, or want.
1. Chapter 1

I could remember that night all too clearly.. how the adrenaline ran through my veins as I watched from above the center stage, at all the people that were there that night. My mother passed me her words of encouragement, planted a kiss on my cheek as they graced the audience with their elegance. In the air, they were like angels; their swift movements looking as though they were flying. They were my teachers, showed me how to move just like them; how to have agility and use it well. I was told it was something I was born with and that performing was in my blood. I was a people pleaser, I lived for the applause of the audience.. but there was one man that I was more then excited to see that night.

Bruce Wayne. He's that rich guy from this city, some people have even went as far to call him, "the prince of Gotham." I could see him in the front row, watching my parents glide through the air. It was almost time for me to join them in their act, become part of their team. That's when it happened, the thing that would change my life forever. If you blinked, you would have missed the rope snapping; sending my parents down to their deaths. The cheer of the crowd turned to sounds of horror as my parents, the two people who were my whole world crashed to the ground with a giant thud.

"Mom! Dad!" I yell, climbing down to their lifeless bodies. My knees buckled from underneath me as a scream escaped my lips. _No, this can't be happening_. I ran that through my mind over and over again as I curled my knees to my chest, finally willing myself to sob. For the first time, I wanted to hide myself from the world, not entertain them. People were being escorted out of the tent, the chaos dissipating into silence.

I didn't want to move, I felt if I moved I would get sick to my stomach. If this was some nightmare, I wanted to wake up. I would give anything to wake up to my mother's warm arms around me, coddling me until I fell back to sleep. Just thinking that I would never get to experience their comfort again had me crying even harder. The sick feeling just got worse, threatening release as I grabbed the closest thing that I could get sick into. The soft burn in my throat was nothing compared to the pain in my chest as I buried my face into my hands, another wave of emotion ripping through me.

"_Miro, čhavo_," a voice cooed as the woman who possessed it picked me up and placed me into her lap. I shuddered. Her embrace, although kind and familiar, was not my parents. I looked up into the eyes of the woman I've known all my life to be my aunt. Her name was Mirela and, just like my parents and myself, was Romani and proud of it. She had started to sing, letting my cries dissipate into hiccups. Aside from my parents, she was all I had left.

"_Nais tuke_," I told her as she planted a kiss to my forehead. I noticed how she looked at the bodies lying near us, the ones I couldn't look at.

"Let's get you tucked into bed, Richard. I can stay with you tonight, make sure you're okay."

"But-" I choked out, finally permitting myself to look at my parents. Tears began to weld up in my eyes again. My mother, who's smile was so bright and laughter that sounded like bells... it was gone. She lied facedown, in a pool of blood that wasn't just her own. My father's eyes were still open in what looked like horror. ".._them_." Aunt Mirela closed her eyes for a moment, then looked back to me. She opened her mouth about to speak before we noticed a stranger come into the tent; eyes dead locked on me.

"I can take it care of it for you," he said simply. He came into the light where I could see his face; the face of Bruce Wayne. "I'm sorry to say that I saw what happened."

"Mister Wayne, I'm not sure the child is ready to speak to anybody just yet, not about this." He looked up and her and back to me, a not so happy smile crept on his face as he extended his hand to me. I took it, shocked that I was even face to face with this man. I did wish it could have been under different circumstances.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"R-Richard," I replied. "And thank you.. you know, for offering to take care of them."

"I don't mind. I know what it's like to be in your position; probably better then anyone else here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "My cell number is on there, if you need to talk I'll be there to listen." I took the card from it and placed it into my pocket. I doubt I was really going to call him. Aunt Mirela came up behind me and placed her hands onto my shoulders. "I'll leave you to her Mr. Grayson, try to get some sleep." And that was that. He left the tent without so much as another word.

I honestly didn't even remember walking with Aunt Mirela to the trailer because next thing I knew I was in the shower, letting the warm water sink into my skin. I couldn't cry anymore; I was too exhausted and mentally drained, especially with a million thoughts running through my mind. Would I continue in the circus under my aunt's care. No, she wasn't really related to me. Did my parents even have a will? Would I be put into a foster care system, live with people who were only interested in collecting money off of me?

What if I never felt happy again?

Shut up Dick, stop thinking so much. The water is running cold, get out and go to sleep.

I sighed, turning the water off and throwing on the clean clothes I had sitting on the sink. I shuffled over to my bed and cocooned myself in my blankets. I could hear my aunt moving coming to my door and then to my bed. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Richard, I'm going to go back to my trailer and get some things. Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

"Yeah," I replied in a hoarse whisper. "I'll be okay." She planted a kiss on my cheek before she walked out.

_The one reason Mirela hated Gotham was because of how it looked at night, dark and deceptive; it made her feel even more guilty for what she was about to do. Richard was only ten, just lost his parents which was no accident at all. Plus, she had grown to adore the Grayson's; treat them just like her own family. She knew what was going to happen all this time, so why was she feeling so heartsick now? The man at the end of the street was waiting for her, they were going together to face the court._

_ "Nice night for a walk, huh?" he asked, his voice hinting at the rain that had begun to fall just moments ago. His accent was thick with something that seemed like dread._

_ "Zucco, we have a lot more important things to talk about then that," she told him. They had to make sure nobody was looking or following where they were going. Tony Zucco picked the lock of one of the old warehouses in the city, one that no one would think of entering. He got the door open, a grin on his lips._

_ "Ladies first," Grinning back, Mirela stepped inside and from there, went over to another door. It was unlocked, a sure sign that they knew the two of them were coming. Zucco followed behind her, traveling down the steps, coming face to face with the same group of people that they both have feared for years._

_ The Court of Owls._

_ At first, there was just silence as we were stared down by people with masks that resembled owls. Mirela's heart started beating in her chest a little harder, but from guilt or intimidation she wasn't sure. Finally, one of them stood up, a man with a cane in his hand who walked over to the two of them._

_ "So it's been done." It didn't sound like a question but the two of them nodded anyway. Zucco stepped next to Mirela._

_ "I'm quite shocked though. All I did was take the bolts off so the trapeze ropes wouldn't hold, the rope broke before that even happened."_

_ "Still," the masked man spat back. "What was needed to be done was done. And _you_," he looked at Mirela._

_ "I have taken the child into my care for now. He's known me for so long and-" she swallowed hard. "He trusts me. He's never going to suspect a thing. I'll make sure everything happens the way you've instructed for it to happen." The masked man simply nodded._

_ "The two of you did good work. The Court is pleased with your work. I know, it's been a long time to plan for one simple thing like this to happen but it had to be perfect, down to the last detail. Such a shame, John and Mary Grayson were so talented, but from them we got Richard. His training will be hard at first but once he learns, it'll be worth every second you put your own time into. The Court thanks you." _

_ "Sir?" Mirela questioned. "I have to ask because I always wondered. Why Richard Grayson? I know he's talented, anybody with _eyes_ can see that, but there are so many other children in Haley's that could have done just as well a job as one of your Talons."_

_ "We picked Richard because it was the obvious choice. Aside from the fact that he's agile, he was born to do this. I won't go into detail on why since it's really none of your business, but Richard is an asset to us in more ways then one. You two are free to go now." They both nodded and, walking out together, they breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing went wrong, everything went according to plan. Mirela's next job wasn't going to be easy._

_ She promptly made her way back to Haley's before anybody really noticed she was gone. She hoped she wouldn't wake the poor child asleep inside the trailer as she laid down on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over her as she listened to the boy's breathing; strained and broken as it fell into the silence of the night. She still felt terrible, subjecting Richard to such a fate. The Court of Owls had intentions of hurting and breaking him till the little bit of happiness that was still inside him was broken. She had herself to think about too, though. If she let Dick get taken away or let anything out of the Court's plan happen, she would have been killed. She can still remember the nursery rhyme that her mother told her. It still chilled her to the bone to think of it, how the people of Gotham told their children the same tale._

_ "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send The Talon for your head."_

_ She could feel a tear streaming down her cheek as she walked to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. This was a child's life she was taking away; she already lived hers._

_ "Oh my God," she whispered to herself, staring at her reflection. "What have I done?"_


	2. Chapter 2

The funeral was held a week later, not that I was really _aware_ that week. When she could, Aunt Mirela would pry my body from my mattress in a fit of parental duty and shoo me to the 'fresh air'. When I did go outside, I would watch as my friends would run around and play together, but I had no muse to go and join them. As if she felt my cracking point coming to a close, she sat me down after dinner.

"I understand that you're hurt čhavo. I'm hurting for them too, I loved your parents like they were my family; just as much as I love you. I know it's hard to carry on after such a tragedy but you do have to at least try."

"It's just-" There it was, the emptiness. I can almost hear the wind through my chest as I calm myself. The tears threaten to make there way down my face as the only emotion coursing through my mind that week shown through, longing. "It's so hard. I've tried to focus on other things; schoolwork and reading... those are easy. Then I try to go back to the trapeze-" I sighed, quickly wiping away a tear that didn't even make it out of the corner of my eye. "Then I freeze. I never thought I'd be _scared_ of something I used to love. I just can't stop going back to that night." She put her arm around my shoulders and held me close. Of course, I didn't tell her everything, about how I was starting to doubt myself. It didn't help that, aside from the moment we just shared, Aunt Mirela was becoming distant. We used to talk all the time; she was my adult friend. Mirela was the guidance that I needed when my parents weren't involved. She could for-see my every thought and knew when I needed her the most, even when I'd have a smile plastered to my face. She would invite me into her heart with every conversation, now I don't even know if she really wanted me in her presence. It just kind of hurt me to see her pulling herself away. I just loved her so much and hoped that she knew it.

If I thought the week I endured was hard, the funeral was worse. Much too often, I had to excuse myself to be somewhere alone; have a moment to breathe. Mr. Wayne really worked hard to make it nice, he even attended and offered his condolences. I don't think my aunt really liked him that much, even went as far as to lead me away in the middle of a conversation.

"If you think that man cares about you in any kind of way, you're delusional," she spat.

"He seems nice," I replied softly as we made our way to the front of the room. I was really weary about seeing my parents in their coffins. Lifeless and just gone. Everybody tells me that I should tell them goodbye today, kiss their cheeks, because they can feel it and they know. I know better then that, but I still find myself kissing the side of my mother's cold face and delicately touching her hand. I couldn't find the words to tell her, but she knew in my heart how I felt. How much I would miss her laugh which sounded like bells and her hair which smelled so sweet. The same thing happened when I tried to say goodbye to him. I couldn't form the words to tell him, yet there was so much I wanted to say. Instead, the memories just flashed in my mind. He was the reason I got over my fear of the trapeze, helped me learn how to fly through the air with ease. Aunt Mirela didn't say anything to them, instead just bowed her head and prayed over them.

When I finished "saying goodbye" to my parents, I took my seat next to an old friend of mine. Her name is Raya, and she was also a trapeze artist like myself. She was also taught by my parents and when she pulled me into a tight hug, it seemed like she didn't want to let go. We didn't need to talk, we both knew what the other was feeling. She wasn't part of the circus anymore though, she was living a normal life now and I was more then happy for her. Before any of us knew it, the priest was praying over my parents as their caskets were closed. I noticed Aunt Mirela say something once the priest finished his statement.

"Akana mukav tut le Devlesa." I looked at her as she said it, and she gave me a small smile.

"You never taught me what that means," I told her in a whisper.

"I never had a reason to say it in front of you," she replied. "It means, 'I now leave you to God.'" I nodded, closing my eyes as my hands pressed together. I don't know if I really meant it to be a prayer to God or not, but I hope, if he is listening somewhere, that he tells my parents. _Akana muskav tut le Devlesa. I miss and love you._

Bruce caught up with me after the service.

"I have to get going. Again, I am really sorry for your loss Richard. You have my number if you ever need me."

"Thanks for everything Mr. Wayne. It really means a lot that you did _all_ of this." He smiled, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"The pleasure is all mine Richard, and please; call me Bruce. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?" I thought for a second and nodded.

"I don't mean for this to sound rude, but I'm curious. We barely know each other Mr Wa- Bruce. Why did you do all this for my family.. for me?" He furrowed his brow before answering.

"Well, I don't really think there's just one answer for that, Richard. I guess I... sympathize. I lost my parents around the same time you did. I know how it feels, how dark everything is and how hard it is to move on." His gaze went from me to behind me.

"Oh please, don't let me interrupt your speech, Mr. Wayne. If you don't mind, I need to bring Richard home. It's getting late and we head out for New Orleans tomorrow." Quickly, I extended my arm out to Bruce. He took my hand, a smile on his face. For the first time since that awful night, a smile played at the corners of my lips too. Bruce Wayne was a good man, even if my aunt didn't want to see it.

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Wayne. Maybe I'll see you the next time the circus is in town." He nodded, giving a soft squeeze to my hand before releasing it. I then took Aunt Mirela's hand in mine knowing that if we were to be in New Orleans tomorrow, we'd might as well start with helping the crew workers pack up everything. I couldn't help but wonder if I ever would see Bruce Wayne again. I doubted it, he was a rich philanthropist; I was probably the last thing on his mind, even considering what he had told me.

The last thing I'm sure Aunt Mirela and I were expecting was to go back to Haley's on fire.

"Oh my God!" I shrieked. I ran over to the circus grounds and looked around. People were running around hysterically. This wasn't an accident, not in the slightest. You could tell it was intentional.

"Dick! Get over here!" Aunt Mirela screamed. I looked over to my parents', well, _my_ trailer, which was also set ablaze. No, I already lost enough as it was, I wasn't going to lose my memories of them too! Despite the fact that it was unsafe, I needed just two things; my mother's bracelet, and my father's jacket. If I had those, I'd be okay. I pulled the door of the trailer open and got inside, already thick with smoke. I covered my mouth and got as close to the ground as possible. At least I knew where they were. A couple days after the incident, I took both of them to sleep with me every night. The jacket smelled like him, his cologne and hair gel scent would instantly help me fall asleep. The bracelet linked me to a memory though; decorated with two gold robins. I'm pretty sure I've had the nickname "Robin" for as long as I can remember. It was my mother's favorite songbird and she used to tell me about how pretty they sang. They sat on my bed just where I left them. I put the bracelet around my wrist and draped the coat over my arm. I was about to turn to leave my bedroom when I noticed my door slam shut and then heard someone lock it from the outside. In that instant, I could feel my heart sink. Who would lock me in a trailer that was on fire?

"H-hello!" I called. No reply. I ran over to the door knob and tried to turn it, knowing it was of no use. "Somebody help me! I'm stuck!" I could feel my heart beat move faster as I started to panic. "Aunt Mirela! Please, help me!" The smoke started to fill my lungs, as fits of coughing soon followed as it burned my throat. I could feel tears streaming down my face as I continued to get out of the room, now finding it even harder to breathe. No one was coming, I had to accept that. My eyelids were getting heavier, I found myself finding it harder to stay awake. Blackness soon followed, and I swallowed by it.

You would have thought I had died.

Instead, I woke up in a small, enclosed space. Every part of my body ached. What was going on? Was this a coffin. What was in hand; it was sharp to the touch and jagged. Without really thinking about anything other then getting out, I started to hit the thing I was kept in. If I could find a way out, maybe I could figure out who did this to me and call out for help. I could feel the edges of what I was using as a weapon sink into the palm of my hand, blood dripping down my arm stinging so bad that I started to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. Hit after hit against the surface and it seemed like nothing was working. I was losing hope in ever escaping. I couldn't stop myself from trying though, insisting on switching hands so I could continue to hit against the surface.

Finally, it started to work. I could see a hole and began smashing away at it, until I could manage to stick my arm out. I could feel a handle on the left hand side. I successfully got the door open and finally, I could see the weapon that aided me through the whole ordeal. A _rock_. A sharp, ragged rock which I now had pieces of in my skin. I then inspected what I was locked in, which was not a coffin but a small _wardrobe_. At least I was out of that mayhem. I surveyed my body, taking in the bloody hands and burns that were covering my body. I was burned_, left in that fire. _Where was Aunt Mirela when all of this was happening? Did she even know that I was in the trailer? _Was she even still alive? _

_ No Dick, stop thinking like this. You're going to make it out and you're going to be fine. I looked down at my body again, cringing at the burns that raked across my body. _Whoever took me could have at least provided me with clothes. I then took a glance around the room, which was bare and cold. From the looks of it, I was in some sort of basement; grime and mold coating the every surface of the room. It was all grey and bleak. There was a door, but I knew by now that it would be locked, just like everything that led up to this point; my bedroom door...the wardrobe. Someone didn't want this to be too easy. It was when I noticed the hole in the ceiling that I cringed. It was what was hanging down from the rope that was my way out. I looked at the rock that I had used as my tool, knowing that there would be no worse pain then what I was about to endure.

Climbing up barbed wire.


	3. Chapter 3

If I was going to do this, I knew I had to do it right. My hands now burned as I tried to use my fingernails to take the shards of rock that embedded themselves in my palms. If I could find any sort of way to find warmth, then maybe I could delay climbing up the wire. I could feel the massive dip in the temperature; concluding that it had to be the middle of the night.

In the middle of the winter.

I shivered. With no clothes or means for warmth, I needed to figure out how to survive the night. I scoped the room for anything, any kinds of tools to use that could be used to make warmth. There was nothing except the wardrobe and the rock. Useless. With a gulp rising to my chest, I walked over to the menacing excuse of a way out. It was a good two floor climb which made my hands shake with fear. I mentally apologized to my already aching hands as I wrapped my hands around the wire.

I whimper escaped my lips as I had realized that it wouldn't really be my hands suffering but my feet instead. There were gaps between the sharp points that I could get my hands around, which was almost a relief. My hands have already been through enough. When I had to lean some of my weight onto my feet to grab the next part of the wire, thats when they would lean into the points and cut into the skin. I was shocked that I could even make it halfway up the wire before I could feel tears cascading down my face. There was a dull throb coming from my hands holding on too long to the rope as well as the cuts in my palms.. it was becoming unbearable. Biting my lip in an effort to keep myself quiet, I raised my hands up the wire to push up as my feet screamed for mercy.

There was a thought in the back of my mind that this might not really be over. What if I'm climbing up to something even _worse_, or if I died down here and nobody found me? It was hard to push those thoughts out of my mind. My eyes stung with sleep. I just wanted to close them, leave my reality for just one second so I could pretend it didn't exist. _Don't give up Dick_, I told myself, feeling as if I was going to fail anyway.

_Mirela frowned as she packed up whatever stuff survived the fire into a box. If she ever found Richard Grayson again, maybe he'd give her the time of day to at least talk to her so she could give his stuff back. Most of it was small stuff; a couple of stuffed animals and books that weren't too badly burned. Maybe she could make peace with him over his stuff. She eyed the bracelet and jacket that she was given after Zucco fetched Dick from the fire. Their work was done but she was sure they'd both never forget just how terrible they really are. She carefully placed the leather jacket and bracelet into the box as well, taping it shut for safekeeping. _

_They had to fake his death, which was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. The Owls had found a way to make a dummy; so lifelike.. it looked just like the poor kid that anyone could have been mistaken. The autopsy, faked, just like the dummy. The Court of Owls definitely had their pull in this city and they knew it. They scared people to get what they wanted, just like what they did to her so many years ago. She sighed, knowing that the "funeral" was going to be just as tedious as the plan to make Dick a Talon had been and she just wasn't prepared. In the long run, she would always love Dick; the kid with the big grin and blue eyes that seemed to dream endlessly. She could keep her memories of when they were so close, but things between them would never be the same. Sooner or later, he would find out; probably come after her to kill her himself. She knew she deserved it so she probably wouldn't stop him._

_She was lost in thought as she sat in her trailer, sipping down her cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and dipped her fingers into the glass of water sitting on her coffee table. She was supposed to be playing the role of the grieving woman, right? The least she could do was make it look like she was distraught. Fake crying? It would work. She opened the door, frowning at the little boy standing there with an envelope._

_"This came in the mail for you, m'am," he said simply, extending his arm to her. She took it, looking at him. _

_"Thank you, um-" Wow, had she really forgotten the kid's name. He was one of Richard's friends._

_"Raymond," he answered simply. "I'm sorry for your loss, by the way. Mr and Mrs Grayson were great and-" he stopped short, locking his jaw. He looked at her dead in the eyes then, his eyes becoming watery. He took his hands and wiped his eyes before taking a deep breath. "Dick. He was my best friend."_

_"Čha-" she couldn't will myself to call him what she had called Richard since the first time she met him. No, this child didn't have that bond with her. "It's as much my loss and it is yours, and I'm sorry you lost him too. Tragic, all of the Graysons just _dying_. I guess the only thing we can do is keep them alive in our memories." Mirela gave him a weak smile. _

_"Is there anything I can do for you?" Raymond asked. She shook her head, closing the door to her world. _

_She was alone, again. She hated not knowing what they were going to him, how much he must be suffering by now. They were going to break him until there was nothing left of the chatty, bubbly little kid he was. He was going to be the skeleton of who he used to be; worn out like an old towel. While he was still in her care, she thought long and hard about if she could find away around it; save Dick from the fate he knew nothing about. There were plenty of people that went into the witness protection program, why couldn't they? But then the one fear that they'd _both_ be caught ate away at her. She let it affect her so badly that she began to pull away from the boy, which she hated. _

_Now that she thought about it, she would have given anything to spend that last week she had with Richard differently. She just let fear get the best of her. That's how she got stuck in this mess in the first place. Her first night in Gotham was supposed to go smoothly with no problems. Instead, she was brought to the Court by two Talons who were instructed to execute her if she didn't agree with their plans. Zucco also suffered the same way._

_"It's bad enough living a life of crime, but now I'm being forced to kill _trapeze artists_?" he asked them at first before meeting the glare of the Talon. "If you insist." That was that. The crime boss submitted to their wishes without so much as another thought on the matter._

_The circus, having to stay in Gotham because of the damages, was moving out to Tennessee in the morning and she would leave Gotham behind for another year. She turned to go into her bedroom and sleep, until a sharp whack to the back of her shoulder blades startled her and made her fall. She whipped around to face who had sent her tumbling over. Her eyes widened._

_"I thought our business was settled?" she spat angrily, staring into the circular glowing eyes of a Talon._

_"I was sent here to kidnap you." he answered, raising up a cast iron skillet that was in her sink. " Pleasant dreams, Mirela." She gasped, hitting the floor with a thud as the skillet smacked her on the head._

"Almost there," I gasped out loud, shifting my weight up to the last bit of wire that was hanging from the ceiling. Success. I grabbed the ledge, pulling myself up and taking a breath of relief. I didn't even want to look around, completely exhausted from climbing and sore from the abuse of the sharp points. I shut my eyes tight, letting my hands massage my feet in circular motions. If I could walk without cringing, it would be a miracle. I tried to suppress a groan as I touched what felt like the most tender part of my foot. I blinked my eyes open carefully, frowning at the hole that was pierced into the heel of my foot. I tried pulling myself up onto my feet, taking a mental note of the pain that shot through my feet. I winced at the new sensation of trying to walk, looking ahead towards a box. I had to pace myself, but I limped over and found what I've been so desperate for.

Clothes.

I could feel a small grin, lifting the worn out material to inspect before I slipped them on. It was instant, I started to feel slightly warmer then I felt before. Sitting down, I took a minute to relish in the feeling of the fabric against my skin, plus the fact that I even made it up here. It just made me happy that I could find the smallest bit of achievement and a reason to feel proud of myself. It was so strong, the feeling washing over me like a long awaited tide. After being kept away from it for so long, I welcomed it back with open arms. Suddenly, a low rumble in the pit of my stomach made me focus on another feeling I'd like to come back to.

The feeling of a full stomach.

Pitifully, I looked around the ledge, not showing much surprise that there was nothing. I sighed, finally understanding there game. I was going to have to earn it, just like I did with my freedom _and_ my clothes. I looked around and noticed no sign of having to climb up barbed wire. There was a door, but was it even worth checking? I didn't bother getting back up to walk again, my feet were still screaming in pain. Crawling over to the door, I took the knob into my hand and turned it. To my surprise, it turned with ease and opened up in front of me. _This day just keeps getting better and better_, I snorted in my head. I quickly crawled inside, shutting the door behind me to find another bare room. No windows, or doors; except the one that I came through. Furrowing my brow, I reached back up to the knob of the door and sighed. Locked in. Figures.

What I really didn't expect however, was how hard it became to breathe in the door. I could feel my breath becoming more shallow as noticed the vent pushing a smoke like substance into the room. I could feel things becoming hazier, my breath becoming more quickened and uneven then it was before. The sleepiness that had creeped up on me before was no match for whatever drug was being put into my system now. Sooner or later, I couldn't keep myself sitting up, my body hitting the floor. The door opened; a man with a white face looming over me, taking me into his arms.

"Mr. Grayson, I'm quite pleased that you have made it this far. Congratulations." I wanted to answer, ask who he was, but the words became lost as they barely stumbled out of my lips. "Tomorrow child, your real training will begin."


	4. Chapter 4

My sense of time was gone; who knows just how long I have really been here? It didn't help when weeks felt like months. Months stretched into years until who knows how much time had slipped from me. What made it worse was being stuck under some old warehouse in Gotham, not having seen the outside since I was taken. I miss the sun and it's warmth, and breezes when the weather would start changing. It was just cold here; dour. I miss seeing people's faces, _really_ seeing them; eye color, smiles. Everything was the same here, mask after mask with no emotion. Some days I just couldn't handle what they were asking me to do, the training just too much to bear; and when that happened the punishment was worse. Days locked in darkness; no food or water. I would be so close to death that I could practically taste it; relish that almost feeling of being free. They wouldn't let me go though, they wanted me as their plaything; their robot that did nearly everything they had asked them to do.

I gave up fighting a long time ago. Fighting just resulted in bruises and scars that would never go away. I had too many, they littered every inch of my body, lessons that taught me never to disobey the Owls. Sometimes when I would be beaten so badly I could barely see, I wanted to cry out and scream. When I did will myself, I'd be hurt worse because crying was a weakness in their eyes. Talons didn't cry.

Talons don't feel anything.

I had become obedient and learned to hone my skills that Haley's had only just begun to teach me. Acrobatics were only a small portion of things that I needed to know; fighting with swords and knives was something else. My teacher was also a Talon; one with a mask and armor to boot. He was woken up by the court to teach me how to fight. For a long time, he had trained me in what seemed like a dungeon; dark and cold and just something _evil_. Sometimes I wish there were windows I could just throw open, let in some warmth and color.

"You're a fast learner, Richard," he said once, almost like he was proud. He liked that I was becoming more of a monster, like him. Most of the time he was my opponent in these practices, unless he was teaching me something new. This one day I remember in particular was different. When I came to him, he didn't have any swords or knives around. Just a seat next to him and a glass of water on a table seated near it.

"What is this?" I asked him, my voice doused with confusion. He patted the seat next to me and I obliged, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Richard, there are a few things I need to tell you. Plus, I thought after all of your training that you could use a day to learn about why you've been chosen." He paused and looked at me through the big owl lenses of his mask. I'm sure he was expecting me to say something because after that pause he sighed and resumed talking. "The Court of Owls need special people to protect Gotham City from people who could destroy it. This city is _the Court's_ city, and they like to make sure it's kept that way. You're quite the special one Richard, I'm rather impressed with the kind of Talon you're turning out to be." I cringed as he sat forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Thanks," I muttered. Why was he complimenting me? Ever since I've been kidnapped, compliments were not handed out, ever. Now it's like they're being spit at me.

"I remember Gotham as a child," he began. "When I became a child of Gotham, a performer for Haley's circus; they are times I'll never forget."

"H-Haley's Circus?" I blinked in amazement. "You...you were-" He nodded, no need for further explanation I guess.

"I remember meeting Amelia, falling for her pretty smile and laugh. I should have known it too good to be true."

"Look, not that I don't really mind hearing about your life's history, but why are you telling me this?" I rested my arms on the arm rest and slouched in my seat a bit, trying to get more comfortable. He lifted his arms to his mask and pulled it off his head, his eyes meeting mine. This guy was just full of surprises today, since I've never seen anybody's face in a very long time. Blue veins were faintly noticed on his forehead and cheeks; his complexion pale. He pressed his lips together as he set the mask down on the table next to us. My eyes averted to the mask, wondering why he was revealing so much to me now. He met my gaze after a long moment.

"Well, there is a reason, but I want to make you understand first.. understand why things have to be the way they are. I lost Amelia because I wasn't the right man for her according to her father. I wasn't rich and up to par with what he wanted, especially after she gave birth to our son. Before, things were white and black in Gotham, then the colors got blurred."

"Gray," I noted. "What happened to your kid?"

"I had somebody raise him in Haley's, the first _gray son_ of Gotham." He looked at me, studied me. "Just like you. Richard, are you with me so far on what I'm trying to tell you?" I stared at him, not really knowing what to say that didn't sound like a jumbled mess.

"I-I don't know," I let out finally. He reached his hand out to touch my shoulder before I flinched it away.

"Richard, my name is William Cobb. I'm your great grandfather." He leaned forward in his seat to rest his hands on my knees, which were currently shaking. I could feel heat rise to my cheeks and adrenaline race though my bloodstream. I couldn't even look at him. It's his fault I was even sitting here to begin with, because I was part of his plan to keep Gotham as the Owls' playground. His grip on my knees tightened as he tried to angle his face so his eyes could bore into mine. Finally looking at him, I could only see red. Anger, hurt, annoyance.

"_Get off of me_," I said through clenched teeth. "GET OFF!" I realized that a few tears had escaped my eyes and were running down my cheeks, but at this rate I didn't care. He straightened up in his chair, crossing his leg as he reached for the glass of water. Raising it to his lips, he drank the whole glass down.

"So, you still don't understand then?" he remarked, after placing the glass on the table.

"_Understand_? Why don't you tell me what I'm _supposed_ to understand because what I _understand _ is that I'm here because of you." I wiped away the runnels from my face as I tried to control the shaking. After all this time and all the training, this is the last thing I expected. I just wished things had stayed the same and less personal. I wasn't just being trained by a talon now, I was being trained by family.

"R-Richard, please. Just, listen to me. This, the training, the Court, all of this is your destiny. The Court needs somebody with your talent. By the looks of it, you'll be the best Talon they've _ever_ had-"

"_I don't want this_!" I spat through clenched teeth. He sighed, a small smile forming on his lips.

"But you will, Richard. Once you really get your hands dirty, you'll live for it." He grabbed the helmet and placed it back on his head, the big owl eyes back on me. "And then, you'll never want to stop. Whether you want it or not, it's your destiny." With that last sentence, he raised from his seat and walked calmly out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts.

The one question that haunted me was what I was going to do now. He was my trainer, so giving him silent treatment was out of the question. I just didn't know how to feel about any of it. When you're a kid, your parents tell you that you can be anything you want to be; that no one else could make that decision for you. Then this man walks into my life to tell me that he had everything planned out for me. What was a Talon anyway, what did they do? How did they protect the city, and who were they protecting it from? I had my hands balled up into fists since he left, just wanting to hit something, or just _him. _

"Richard, I've been instructed to take you back to your room." Room, more like prison since once I was put in, I couldn't get out until they wanted me. I eyed the man man behind the Court's mask. With a simple nod, I stood up from the chair and was led out into the hall. "So, he finally told you?" I didn't justify his question with an answer, I'm sure the way I was acting gave him enough of a reply. "If it helps, your training is just about over. You have a couple more tests and then you're done and can don a mask." _Just like him_, just like everybody here. Faceless. We got to my prisoning room and stepping inside, I turned to look at the man before me.

"I have a question for you."

"Okay."

"How many years has it been since you kid- well, _took me in_?" The question burned my throat, running it dry. I was making myself sick wallowing over what the answer could be. I was definitely not ten years old anymore, not a child of any sort, especially when I was so close in height to the Owl in front of me.

"You were taken in six years ago _today_, as a matter of fact. Any other burning questions?" I swallowed hard and shook my head.

"No, but thank you." There was no reply from the stranger, just the close of the door and the darkness of the room drenching me in the feeling of self pity. Sighing, I found my way over to the corner where a some ratty blankets were, along with a lamp that could dimly light the room, and a book. Reading was my only escape from my problems, and believe it or not, the Court had no problem supplying me with books. I could barely make out the title from the cover, but this was one book that seemed to welcome me back with open arms every time I read it. Maybe I craved it's story of adventure and fantasy, but there was just something about The Hobbit. I cracked open the worn book to the page that I had folded in, marking my place. It was nice to know that if I couldn't literally escape, then at least I had this. I read a good twenty pages before marking a new page and placing it beside my sleeping arrangements, closing my eyes on another day.

* * *

_Crime Alley, it's one of those places from my memory that I remember because I hated it. It was always unwelcoming and chilled me to the bone. I watched my parents die right in front of me there, and it pained me to even have to go back. It was my fault really, why I decided to park that car there I had no idea Rain had pelted down from the skies as I swung through the streets by my grapple gun. It did beat walking, thats for sure. I don't know what I was expecting to find when I was walking back to my means of transportation but a boy trying to steal it's tires was not part of it. Calmly walking behind him, I tapped his shoulder._

_"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, turning him and grabbing him by his coat; using a grim voice while he froze, lug wrench in hand. Slowly he returned his gaze to me, green eyes widened in surprise. He had gotten the fronts off, which astonished me since he didn't look any older then maybe ten or eleven. "I want an answer, Kid."_

_"L-look man, a kid like me needs money, okay? I'm too young for a job so what else can I do?" He gulped as I released my grip on his collar, the lug wrench falling from his hand as he shakily smoothed out his faded denim coat. I had to admit, he was in bad shape; from his ripped up clothes and worn out sneakers, to his matted hair which looks like it hasn't been properly washed in weeks. I pulled out my cell phone and found Jim in my contacts. Surely, Gordon would know what to do with the boy._

_"How long have you been on the streets kid-"_

_"Jason. My name is Jason." He averted his eyes to the ground where rain poured down harder from the night sky. "And... not long."_

_"Not long?"_

_"I'm not telling you anything else. What are you gonna do? Call the cops, have them take me away?" My thumb traced the green call button but I decided against calling Jim and stuffed the phone into my belt. I noticed him take a small breath of relief._

_"You have a problem with cops?" I loosened my voice a bit from the grimness I wore with the costume. Being Batman was supposed to be intimidating, but from the looks of it, this kid wasn't too scared of me anymore; shaken up from sneaking up on him sure, but not frightened. I sat on the curb, patting the space next to me. Both of us were already soaked from the rain, so sitting down probably wasn't going to matter much._

_"No, I never dealt with cops before," he answered, taking his seat next to me. "If I had known that stealing tires would result in a pep talk from the bat man, I wouldn't have bothered. I don't really have time for this. Don't you have more important things to do anyway, like fight crime?" _

_"You're really mouthy," I countered. "I would think you'd want to talk and tell me why you were going to sell my tires for money over calling the cops on you. I do have the Commissioner of the GCPD right in my contacts. _

_"G-Gordon?" he stuttered. I raised a brow, although he couldn't see it. _

_"Do you know Commissioner Gordon personally, Jason?" He nodded while picking at the hole in his jeans. I reached over to lightly pat him on the shoulder before reaching into my pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill. "Here, take this. Go buy some food and new clothes." I extended the bill to him which he took and stared at, almost in disbelief. "What's your last name, Jason; I didn't catch it." He slowly looked up from the dollar to me, a small smile on his lips._

_"Todd," he answered. "I really don't know what to really say except.. thank you." I smiled back, before turning to look at my now out of commission car as I listened to Jason running down the street until his footsteps dissipated into the night. I pulled out my phone again and called Alfred._

_"Is everything alright, sir?" the english accent came through crystal clear on the phone. _

_"I'll be home later then usual tonight, Alfred. I have to put the front wheels back on the Batmobile .. I'll explain everything when I get home."_

_"Will you be needing any tools, sir? I can send the batwing." I eyed the lug wrench on the ground as a small smile played at the corners of my lips. _

_"That would be great actually. I'll use it to tow the batmobile home, thanks Alfred. This shouldn't take _too_ long, I'll see you soon." I hung up the phone and immediately dialed Jim Gordon, looking to the sky for any sign of the batwing._

_"Batman, I had been hoping you'd get in touch with me. I've been looking through my files all night on that sample you brought to me. There's nothing." He sounded tired, strained even. I looked up after hearing a loud roaring sound of the Batwing approaching. As if actually being piloted by somebody, it landed gracefully on the street. _

_"That's why I brought it to you Gordon, my systems couldn't find anything either. It's not the Scarecrow's fear toxin, yet he's threatening to use it to destroy the city. Although, to be honest, that's not why I'm calling. What do you know of a boy named Jason Todd?" I heard a sigh over the phone and listened intently for whatever Jim might tell me. I couldn't help but wonder where Jason even lived, did he even have a home? I should have asked._

_"Why?" Jim asked. "He's just a kid from Crime Alley. I used to deal with his parents from time to time. I can't really disclose anymore information without stepping over lines that I can't professionally cross. I'm sure you'll have no problem digging it up yourself?"_

_"Of course," I replied. "I met him tonight Jim, I just want to make sure he's going to be okay. Goodnight, I'll call you tomorrow if I find out any more news about the toxin." I hung up the phone and stuck it in my pocket. Sighing, I realized it was already a long night and sleepiness stung my eyes, but I knew it wasn't over. But then again, when was my work ever finished?_

* * *

I was woken up much earlier then I was used to, then led down lower into the warehouse where I was brought in front of the court. I was rather surprised at how elaborate the room was. I was so used to being in rooms that were falling apart from old age and wear; this one seemed to be in tip top shape, with paintings hung on the walls and chandeliers from the ceilings. They sat in what looked like wooden bleachers, something a jury would sit in and left me a seat facing them in the front; with cushions and big armrests. I sat down in the seat I was led too and sat as upright as possible. Swallowing hard, I looked back at them.

"Richard Grayson, welcome to the court room." The voice came from a man in the front who had stood up, walking over to me. "It's been a very long time since I have seen you. Do you remember, I was the one who carried you out of that room.. after your first test."

"I remember," I told him, my voice dry from nervousness. I wanted to make sure I didn't say anything wrong in front of them, because I knew how they could be. One wrong thing and I could find myself starving and weak for weeks. "You were the first Owl I've ever seen."

"I do hope you weren't too terrified." I could sense a smile behind his words. "You were a brave one though, smart too. Plus, you took to your training with flying colors. I've never seen someone who can hack into a system of computers as fast as you did, or fight with swords in such grace." I could feel heat slightly rise to my cheeks as I looked down and tugged at my sleeves, picking at the fabric that was already falling apart.

"Thank you," I replied sheepishly.

"But today, we've decided you're ready for your final test. Today, you can become a Talon and serve your city. Would you like that?" I nodded. Did this mean I was free from them now? That I didn't have to be stuck in this God forsaken place anymore? All I did know was that I was desperate to feel the wind on my face again, to run for as long as I wanted and end up somewhere new. I wanted freedom, no matter what the cost.

"I'm _more_ then ready," I replied. "What is the last test?"

"This last test will prove to us that you really are ready to do _everything_ we ask you to do. It'll be better understood in just a moment. William?" I didn't even notice him sitting in the room by the door, in all of his Talon armor; black and shiny, eyes that actually look like they lit up. He stood next to me as I sat up from the chair. Turning towards me, he reached for the sword latched onto his belt and offered the handle to me. I noticed how clean it was, how it shone bright in the light.

"Remember one thing, Richard," I looked up at his mask, feeling my insides curl with nervousness. "Don't show fear." Suddenly, almost like a boom of thunder, the doors snapped open as a court member led in someone with a cloth bag wrapped around their head. It was a woman, shaking and crying from underneath. They grabbed the chair from behind me and roughly sat her down on it's cushion, tying her arms and legs securely. I could feel myself gulp, almost sick at what I was sure now they wanted me to do. They took hold of the bag that was around her head and removed it, feeling even worse then I did just a moment ago. It felt like my stomach dropped and that my chest was on fire. I looked upon a face that I haven't seen in years, one that I had almost forgotten in my time spent here.

"M-_Mirela_?" She looked up at me, tears in her honey brown eyes as she sobbed.

"I'm so sorry, my_ čhavo._" She was sobbing uncontrollably as she dropped her head down to avoid my eyes. "They made me... threatened to kill me if you didn't end up with them somehow." The sword fell from my grasp as I dropped down to my knees and took her face in my scarred up hands.

"No, no Mirela. Shh, it's okay," I tried to console her as I pulled her into a hug.

"Richard, we did not bring her out here for you to have a family reunion." I looked up to the man in the owl mask. "_She_ is your final test. We are ordering you to kill her, right now."

"Don't think for one second that she really cared about you. She's been part of the Court's plan for years, the only reason she got so close to you was so you'd trust her." It was William speaking from behind me now as he pulled me back to my feet. "She was behind the death of your parents and tricked you into thinking otherwise. She's just trying to get your sympathy." I shook my head, closing my eyes in an attempt to drown out what people were saying so I could listen to reason.

"Dick," Mirela's small voice choked. "Dick, just.. listen to me." I opened my eyes to look back at her. "You know in your heart what the truth is. I know that you must.. _execute me_ in order to move on, I get it. I'm not trying to tell you not to, we both don't have a real choice. But, I do _love_ you. I always have and I'll never stop." I frowned, trying to keep the tears from spilling out as I reached down and placed my lips on her cheek.

"_Akana mukav tut le Devlesa_," I murmured in her ear so only she could hear it. "I love you too." I stood back up as I noticed the small smile on her lips. She closed her eyes and bowed her head down.

"Mirela Télí, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die," William announced as he gave me a slight nod, handing the sword back to me.

Never had I thought I could take somebody's life, and now I felt like I was being hit by a truck. How was I supposed to do this? I looked to William.

"I-I don't-" I had begun to say before he put both his hands on my shoulders.

"Just slit her throat, it's easy," he replied. "It'll be over before you know it." Sighing in an attempt to relieve some stress, I pulled away and angled her head so I could see her throat and tried to swallow. I wanted to look away, and not watch what I was about to do, but that would be an example of weakness to the Court. I lifted the sword and pressed it against her throat, taking a deep breath before deeply making an incision and dragging it across her neck; blood ending up all over my hands and clothes. She fell limply in her seat; lifeless. I felt even worse then before as I dropped the murder weapon back onto the ground where it landed with a loud _CLINK!_ Suddenly, applause. The Court was happy with me.

"Well done," The man behind me said as he stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. "Court, may I present to you, your new Talon!" I couldn't look at them as some of them stood up to cheer, instead peering down at the blood on the floor. So this is what a Talon was?

A murderer following orders.


	5. Chapter 5

I tried to keep myself calm and collected as I was escorted back to my room, with William by my side, to keep his hand on my shoulder. We got to my door where he nodded to the man in the owl mask, who's name I still had not learned.

"I can take it from here, sir," William said to the man, "I'll be back downstairs soon, to go over the rest of Richard's training." We both watched as the man walked off down the hall, leaving the two of us alone. He took off his mask and placed it under his arm before looking me over.

"I know, it's a little much the first time," he told me, "but you did it, it's over now. Everything just gets easier from this point on." I shied away from his gaze as I looked back down to the blood all over my clothes.

"I-" I paused trying to contain whatever emotion I had left. How could something so terrible be easy at all; I couldn't wrap my head around that. Taking somebody's life was the worst thing I had ever done. Mirela, regardless of what the Court made her do, was innocent. She was a victim of the court, and I was the one to take her life. I should have said no, should have fought against them. Any outcome from that would have been better then what I just did. I sunk to the floor against the wall, tucking my knees up to my chest. I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Richard?"

"Can you get me a bucket or something, please?" I said as a hoarse voice escaped from my lips; resting my head to my knees, trying to fight against the urge building in my throat. The memories kept flashing behind my eyelids, haunting me. I didn't even realize William had left but before I knew it, he was pushing my back against the wall and placing a bucket into my lap.

"Easy now," he coaxed. "You stay here, I'm going to get you some clothes to wear. I doubt you still want those." I shook my head, honestly just wanting them off of me now. They stuck to me, the blood saturated through to my skin. I watched William walk away before I finally stopped fighting the urge to vomit and let it happen. I hated this, feeling weak and vulnerable. For just five minutes, I wished there could be a way for me to turn my emotions off and be the human robot that they want me to be.

I continued to take deep breaths for awhile, using my sleeve to wipe the sweat from my brow as I leaned back against the wall again. William came back sooner then expected with clothes. He carefully helped me to my feet and into my room, where he stripped me of my old clothes and help me put on the new ones. If I didn't feel drained, I would have acknowledged that these were of better quality then the ones before. William carefully pushed me down into the blankets and draped one over me.

"_I killed her_," my voice was just barely a whisper as I stared at the wall on the far end of the room. "I'm a _killer_." He didn't answer me, I didn't really expect him to. Maybe he felt guilty, or worried. He was never this cautious around me before.

"Get some sleep, you're going to need it." He placed the mask back on his head before closing the door. Maybe if I tried to do something familiar, I could feel better. I reached my hand over to the book, touching the front lightly before pulling it over to me. I craved that escape away from my life; I wanted to not be _myself_. I sat up and opened the book, barely reading the first sentence on the page before the tears built up in my eyes. I just couldn't hold it in anymore.

A whimper fell from my lips as I convulsed into full blown sobs. It raked through me, taking over my body. Every _single_ built up emotion fell from my eyes as my grip on my book tightened. Only one thought now ran through my mind, that Richard Grayson was gone. I would never be the free spirit on the trapeze again, my childhood ripped from me so easily. In a fit of rage and hurt, my shaking hands found the pages of the book and began to rip them from it's bindings. Page after page of childish adventure scattered in pieces on the floor as I removed myself from the blankets and went to the small stack of book in the corner of the room. I grabbed them all, chucking some against the wall with all my might while some were ripped to shreds as well. I started to hyperventilate from my body's sudden rush of emotion, but my control was gone completely. People who had control didn't answer to people in masks; they didn't kill because they were ordered to. They had their own mind, they were complete.

I was broken, inside and out.

I fell to the floor on my knees, curling up into a ball as I weeped the rest of the emotions out of my system until... nothing. I felt numb and lifeless. Sleepiness pulled at my eyes as I willed them to close, hoping that maybe I wouldn't wake up; that my life could end right there.

Instead, I dreamed of fire; the circus up in flames right in front of me. I stood in horror, listening to the screams of the people inside. I watched in bewilderment as people outside of the tent didn't seem to notice the chaos that had erupted right in front of them.

"What happened?" I screamed, taking notice that the fire was completely surrounding the area. "Don't you guys even notice what's going on? We have to do something!" As if triggered by my voice, every body turned their head and looked dead at me, looks of disgust and fear plastered on their faces.

"It was you," one of them snarled. "Stay back everyone! He's a danger to us all!" I couldn't help but stare at all of them in horror.

"N-no, I couldn't never do something like _this_," I shouted back. "We need to try and help those people inside the tent!" They continued to stare at me, some backing away like I was a predator on the verge of attack. Sighing, I removed myself from their glares and ran into the tent.

The one thing I wasn't expecting was to hear screams that actually turned out to be cheers. Audience members clapped in applause as they sat in the flames; applauding the main act as they soared through the sky. If it weren't for the fact that people weren't screaming as the flames seared their skin, I probably would have been captivated by the act myself; it was almost too beautiful to look away. There were four of them on the trapeze, flying through the flames without a care in the world.

"Ladies and gentleman, please give a round of applause for the Flying Graysons!" said the ringmaster who looked like the devil. "The only trapeze act in the country that performs without any kind of net! Wasn't their performance on _fire_, tonight?" I stared in total confusion at the family of four making their way down from the trapezes. I would recognize that voice from anywhere. Mr. Haley, also enveloped in flames, as he went to center stage as the other Graysons joined him. I could feel my heart breaking in my chest as my parents were waving to the crowd; not even noticing me standing by the entrance. The fact that I was even replaced by somebody else made everything much worse. The kid stood there, a big stupid grin on his face as he held a girl by the waist; the other acrobat who looked just as happy. The flames started to circle around the center ring, but they didn't seem to notice.

"Let's give a special round of applause for the younger Graysons; Richard and Raya!" I blinked. No, how could this even make sense? The other me continued to smile as he waved to the roaring crowd along with her. They both seemed so happy. Mr. Haly handed Raya the microphone.

"Thank you everyone. I feel so privileged to be part of such a team, one that in a couple weeks; I can call my family. I hope you all enjoyed the show." Then, in that moment, the other me brought Raya into a heated kiss in front of everyone. My parents just looked at them in complete bliss, my mother pulling Raya into a hug and my father patting the other me on the shoulder. Finally, his eyes rested on me, blue eyes piercing into mine as everything disappeared around us. It had suddenly become very cold, dark and silent as the other me continued to stare at me with a glare.

"You could have had this," he spat. "You have ruined your own life. How could you do this to us?"

"What exactly have I done?" I snapped back. "I had no choice in any of this!" A non-amused laugh escaped his lips.

"You had plenty of opportunities to get away, Dick. You could have said no. So what, you probably would have been killed, but imagine how many lives you wouldn't be taking with your death!" He folded his arms across his chest. "And Cobb, you really think he gives a damn about you? Look at yourself, and what you've become! I don't even want to look at you." He turns his head to the ground as I feel hands rest on my shoulders.

Warm hands.

"My sweet robin," it was hardly a whisper. "What are you doing to yourself?" The nickname! I could feel tears sting my eyes as I looked up to my mother, who moved to stand in front of me. Worry and hurt were plastered across her face as she took me into her arms, holding me tightly as her hand ran up and down my back.

"Do you hate me?" I asked her weakly. She took her hand, brushing the hair out of my face as she planted a kiss on my forehead.

"I could never hate you, Dick. How could you think something like that?" She placed her hands onto my face, her thumb wiping off the tears.

"Because-"

"Because you killed?" Another voice from behind me; deep and familiar. My father stepped beside my mother, resting a hand on her shoulder and another on mine. "Dick, you could wipe out an entire _country_ and we wouldn't hate you. Disappointed, yes, but never hatred."

"We just want you to find yourself again, sweetheart. Remember who you are, my little robin. Don't let them change you into the person you're becoming. Fight it." I looked back at the other me, who was studying the scene before him with a glare. I sighed, biting my lip as another tear spilled down my cheek.

"I don't know if I can." I told them simply, watching as they began to fade away. This pained me to the very core, to watch them disappear again. "No! No, no, no! Please don't leave me again!" I fell to my knees in a matter of seconds, feeling the heat from the circus around me again. I was alone, everyone was gone.

I was left in the nightmare of what my life could have been if I had simply fought; watching as it faded away in the billowing of the flames. Even as I forced myself awake and looked around the room, there was no sense of relief; not even the slightest feeling that things were going to be okay.

I was broken.

* * *

_You would never believe what a fifty dollar bill could get a kid on the streets. I relaxed into my new coat and shoes, satisfied that I even had enough money for a loaf of bread. My stomach practically leaped in excitement as I tore off a piece of bread, letting in slide down my throat in bliss. Sure, the coat stunk of sitting in a thrift shop for awhile, but at least I was _warm._ I broke off a rather large piece from the loaf and picked myself up off the ground, stuffing it into my mouth. They had locked up the apartment I used to live in today. My mom never paid the bills, not that she was _alive_ to do it now._

_She died five months ago, and this was going to be my way of life now, breaking into whatever shelter I could find and stealing in order to live or just get what I wanted. People were starting to recognize my face with theft, and it was starting to become dangerous to be in Gotham anymore. Still, I found myself absentmindedly going back to the apartment; to sit on the front steps and pretend that everything was still okay. I knew it wouldn't have been _better_ if my dad hadn't been carted off to prison and ended up dying there, but just having somebody sometimes.. I miss it. _

_"Todd." I glanced up at the boy with a smile. Fred Delano, he was a kid I've practically known my whole life. My mom didn't like him because he used to get into a lot of trouble and drag me down with him._

_"Delano." I greeted, scooting over on the steps as he pulled out his cigarette pack. He offered the pack to me which I took eagerly, my hands already shaking with anticipation. I've never really been a two pack a day guy, but when you deal with the things I've dealt with, sometimes you need all the help you can get. He lit the end for me as I inhaled the smoke into my lungs; enjoying the sudden calm that swept through me. "Does your mom know about your habit yet?" He shook his head, lighting his own as he stuffed the pack into his pocket. _

_"I'm sure she'll figure it out; lots of kids from this side of the city do it, why am I so different."_

_"Because you're not really from _this_ side of the city." I replied simply, taking a long drag; carelessly blowing smoke out from my lungs. "You've got to see the other side. When your family lost their money-" I concentrated on what message I wanted to covey. "Screw it. You wouldn't get it even if I told you." He narrowed his eyes at me, almost as if he was daring me to finish what I had to say. He wouldn't _**get****_ it_**_ though, not really anyway. _

_Kids like me _always _had to worry about money, even if they had parents to worry for them. Since my dad left us and my mom's drug addiction, I had to take care of her and myself. I tried, truly I did. She really lost it when she miscarried my baby sister; really tore her up inside. I knew it was bad when she was passed out longer during the day; when keeping a reasonable amount of food in the fridge became a chore. When kids like Fred were being taken care of, probably tucked into bed, my dad came home drunk; I became his punching bag. And people wonder why I turned to smoking at such a young age. _

_"Let's talk about something else, like where you're staying tonight." _

_"I don't know Fred. There's no definite answer for that since I can't stay here anymore." I gestured to the apartment behind us. "I might go to that abandoned warehouse a couple blocks away, camp out there until I find a better place to stay. It won't be _home_ or anything, but it's something." I finished up the last of my cigarette before stomping it dead on the sidewalk. Breaking the last of the bread in two, I offered half to Fred before sticking mine into my mouth. The rest of the loaf, by my guess, would probably last me a good week, and by then I would probably have to steal again. _

_"Thanks," he said, as I stood up and took the paper bag with the rest of my food supply. "See you around Todd?" I smirked. _

_"Where you'll least expect it." Walking away from the only place I knew to be my home. _

* * *

_"Why aren't you talking?"_

_"Richard, can you hear me?"_

_"Snap out of it before the Court notices you acting this way!" _A loud smack to my right cheek stung me, blinking as I looked at my grandfather. "I know yesterday's trial was tough Richard, but you can't let it get to you like this. Man up!" We were standing in the court room again, in front of where I had committed my first murder the day prior; blood still stained into the rug. The Court wasn't even here yet, but their presence probably wouldn't have mattered anyway; I had no more emotions to spare them.

"Sorry, _Grandpa_," I muttered. "I'll behave." I touched the protective covering on the sleeve of the new outfit I was given, something much like what William was wearing; but more heavily armored. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was telling me when he had helped me put it on, but it had something to do with having to wear this until I was a full Talon. Even though the _real_ training was over, I still had to learn how Talons operate the city; how to get my hands dirty in the city's crime.

"This is your first operation that you're about to be assigned; any questions?" I shake my head, as he hands me a helmet, one just like his with big owl eyes. He placed his on his head as I did the same, taking in the sudden change in eye sight. Everything seemed so much _clearer_ from behind the lens. It was so amazing.. how bright everything was, how I could see every detail.

"W-wow," I stutter, taking the mask off just to see the difference again. His eyes were glowing red as a chuckle escaped him.

"The mask gives anybody who wears it _optimum_ vision. You'll notice just how helpful it is when we're out at night." I placed the mask back on to enjoy the pristine picture in front of me when the Court began to shuffle into their seats. I followed his example, standing at attention without moving.

Waiting for instruction.

It took a good ten minutes before the man, the same one who had ordered me to make my first kill, stood up.

"Tonight, you two are in charge of stopping Maroni's band of drug dealers. They have stolen from _us_! Not such a smart idea on their part. I wanted to make sure that we picked something relatively easy for Richard tonight. I want everybody that was part of that drug deal _dead_! Do you hear me! Every. Last. One."

"We understand, don't we Richard?" William spoke up as I nodded.

"Yes sir," I replied.

"Good," the masked man said. "Kill them and get our supply back to us. I have nothing further to say. It'll be dark soon; go suit up and get ready. I'll want a full report tomorrow morning." He looked to the parliament of owls. "Does anybody have anything further to add?" There was small murmur of voices coming from them, but they all ended up shaking their heads. "Dismissed."

When we left, I followed William into a room not too far from the court room. It was dimly lit, but with the new and improved vision, I didn't even _need_ light. I could see the knives and other weapons I didn't even know the name of. He took one of the foreign objects, studying it as he looked to me.

"I'm going to teach you how to use these tonight," he said bluntly. "I find them to be more useful then swords, and since accuracy was a test you passed with flying colors; I know you won't disappoint." Taking a few more off the wall, he started sticking them into the compartments on my uniform. He took a few for himself as well, along with swords and more knives for the both of us. We were all suited up, ready to act for the Court. Following him into a room branching off of the one we were just in, I was led up a flight of stairs and to another door, which led out.

_Out. _I haven't been _outside _in six years.

It wasn't the same. I had expected to feel the sun warm my skin and to feel free. Instead, cold air hit my face and I grimaced; still feeling as if I was imprisoned in chains.

"Welcome back to the city," William commented, as I took in the sight of the abandoned street. It didn't look like this one particular street had anybody living here in years.

"It's different from what I remember," I replied, following him into one of the back alleys. "It's so _empty._"

"The Court controls this section of the city. Anybody who's smart would stay away." We got ourselves up onto a rooftop and sooner or later, into the busier side of Gotham. To me it still looked different, even though it still held the quick city life and lights. If somebody was visiting Gotham and had no prior knowledge of just how dangerous the city was, they'd probably tell you the view I got was stunning. There was many things about Gotham that topped New York City, even though Gotham City sat directly upstate from the other. I didn't realize how completely captivated I was by the sight I was getting until William tapped my shoulder and pointed at a man down on the streets.

"That man right there is Tony Zucco. He works for Maroni and at one point in time, worked for the Court. Too bad he didn't realize sooner where his loyalties lie." I zoomed the lens in with my hand to get a better look, squinting because his face just looked so _familiar. _Where have I seen him before? We watched him as he smoked, taking long drags as he waited. Finally, a boy somewhere around what looked to be twelve or thirteen joined him. "I've.. never seen that kid before." William said as two older men followed the kid and three men appeared from the alley behind Zucco.

"You're not on your turf, Zucco," the kid spat, which shocked me that I could hear from so far away. Did the helmet also have improved hearing too? "This isn't your dealing ground, nor your side of town, it's _ours_."

"Hmm," he replied, taking another drag from the item in his hand. "Well by the looks of it, we're taking it back. You don't look like you could put up much of a fight anyway, _kid_." The three men behind him chuckled. I could see them clutching the guns in their pockets. What was a kid doing in the middle of a drug exchange anyway, and why did this seem like more of conflict then what we were told anyway? I looked at William then who had already taken out the foreign object, the same one he was going to teach me to use, and threw it towards the crowd of men. If I had blinked, I would have missed him jumping down from the roof and landing on the concrete below. This would have killed any ordinary person, but he landed with a thud on the ground, grimacing at the sound of a crack. He landed behind a dumpster, which served as a good cover at the moment. I followed suit, taking a plunge myself.

The next moves I took into the air felt like I was on the trapeze again. The alley had become my own personal playground, clutching onto a fire escape and hanging there, before dropping to the ground below. The mob groups seemed confused, some freaking out at the sight of the dead body on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, motioning to his foot. He nodded.

"It's almost healed." I glanced at his foot which he moved for good measure. "Don't worry, you'll have all the benefits of a Talon soon, I can assure you." He quickly handed me a couple of the objects. "Throw the potsticker Richard- aim for the head, I don't care which one goes down." I looked at the commotion taking place on the street, all of them searching relentlessly for where the potsticker had come from. I waited until they were distracted enough, examined when the perfect time to release the weapon would be. One man had stopped walking around, checking the rooftops above him as I felt a smirk fall onto my lips. I calculated my next movements as I let the potsticker leave my hand and go smashing right into the backside of the man's head. It was sick to admit this, but I felt _proud_ of myself for taking such a great aim, not even considering the fact that I had taken another man's life. The feeling of guilt and dread didn't seem to exist as William made both our presence's known, sword drawn as he eyed them.

"Hello gentlemen, I'm here to let you all know that the Court of Owls has sentenced each and everyone one of you to die."


	6. Chapter 6

I'll add all the additional "before you read" info later. I just need to get this out to my readers since it's been sitting in my folder un-betaed since... the beginning of May? Again, this is COMPLETELY unbetaed.. I might go back and fix it later, but for now, enjoy.

* * *

There was no kind of clean break in a situation this deeply rooted, especially not for the orders I had to carry out. William was used to killing, and I was only just now learning to ignore the guilt to replace it with pride. Three people down so far and only one of them was mine. I was so determined to make my grandfather proud of me in the same way that I was of myself, that when Zucco shot the kid right in the head... it startled me. William looked away from his current opponent as well. We knew what our orders were when we came here, but when it came to killing children; I don't think I could have dealt with it. Damn the Owls and making me feel so conflicted.

But it was also in that moment where I realized _why_ he was so familiar...

_"Dick, you're grounded. That was totally irresponsible behavior! Both you and Raymond should have known better!" His father was beyond angry, Dick knew that; still, who could resist running on top of a moving train with his best friend? "Now give your mother her birthday present and get meet me in the tent to practice for the performance." Dick sighed, watching him leave the tent as he looked up to his mother. The box I clutched in my hand seemed so much heavier now then it did before as I looked up to my mother's very disappointed face. I wrapped my arms around her waist before giving her the gift._

_"I'm really sorry, okay? I didn't mean to ruin your birthday." I wiped a tear that came down my cheek as I looked at her. "I just- I wasn't thinking." She placed a kiss on my forehead before opening the box to gaze and it's contents._

_"Oh my-" she croaked out, taking out the gold bracelet. "Are those robins?" I nodded as she let out a soft laugh, holding my close. "It's beautiful Dick, thank you- but you're still grounded."_

_"I know."_

_"Don't you realize that what you did was wreck less and stupid? You could have gotten yourself killed, and I don't want to have to ever think about losing you. I _do_ forgive you though... just as long as you don't do it again."_

_"I won't." I told her with a small smile. "I'm going to go meet up with Dad now. Are you coming?" She nodded, going over to place the bracelet into her jewelry box. _

_"I'll be there in a little bit. Go ahead without me."_

_I went out the door to our trailer, walking through the crowd that soon would be our audience. I was about to call out to Dad before realizing that he was conversing with somebody; an angry expression on his face._

_"The circus doesn't need any protection," I heard him say. "Haley's Circus doesn't deal with dirty crime like you're part of. I'm not going to waste my time talking to you about this any further." He noticed me standing there and frowned. _

_"I didn't mean to interrupt." I told him as he shook his head._

_"You're not. Mr. Zucco was just leaving." _

_"Oh, Mr. Grayson... I would never miss a good _show_. I just know it's going to be absolutely groundbreaking. I just hope there are no _accidents_." _

I gritted my teeth together as I aimed the sword at Zucco, making sure the point was just barely grazing his skin.

"I remember you," I told him. He looked up at me, a smile appearing on his lips.

"Oh, _you_ remember me. _Lots_ of people know me boy." William made his final kill, slipping his sword back into its holder before walking over to me. I pulled the helmet off, dropping it to the ground as I pulled him closer; literally meeting him face to face. I wanted him to remember my face, hoping it would shed some life.

"You threatened my father the same night you killed him. You have anything to do with it, huh?" I pushed the tip a little harder to get my point across, taken off guard as he started to laugh.

"I make so many threats in my line of _work_, you really expect me to remember? Kid I don't even know your name!"

"Grayson," I replied, watching as his eyes widened. "That's all you need to know." His eyes widened.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said, his voice more hushed them before as he gave me a once over. His smile was grim, almost evil. "So _you're_ the kid. All grown up and bent to their will." I winced at his words. "And, to think.. you use to be quite a cute little performer." He got up from the ground and went over to look at William. "Who is this, your trainer? Did he teach you any good tricks?" He raised a brow at me before looking back to William. "Come on, I know all about your kind."

"Oh really?" William replied, taking his sword out of the holster; caked with blood and dirt and jamming it into the bastard's stomach. He lurched forward, blood running out of his mouth as he looked up at his opponent. William inched closer so his mouth was next to Zucco's ear. "Then you would know that with our _kind_...blood runs thicker then water."

"I- I could have done that myself!" I exclaimed. "Why did you do that?"

"Because our job involved taking care of the Court's vendetta, not your personal one." He leaned over to hand me the mask. "Plus, putting aside the fact that you have improved a lot since I first met you; I don't think you would have been able to make the kill."

"Not to sound like a whiny little kid here, but how in the hell would you know? I'm... I'm _different._" Dick felt lethal and strong, especially when he slipped the mask onto his head. He followed William back to the underground of the city, and into the room to store their weapons. William placed his own mask onto the table in front of him, swallowing hard as he looked at his grandson. I grimaced at the sight of William's pale and veiny complexion.

"Richard, it's not that I don't believe in you, or trust you to do what you're asked. In time, you'll do everything they need you to do without question. You are still _learning_, and your first night went rather well, better then what I was expecting. You did _well_ tonight. Just... your identity. It must be kept a secret. When you're under that mask, you are not Richard Grayson; you're the _Talon_." I couldn't help but sigh.

"I couldn't help it. He's the reason my parents are in a graveyard. I... I wanted him dead."

"And he _is_****dead. The court wanted him dead, and now he _is_. And now, you will take pleasure in the gifts that being a Talon has to offer." He smiled warmly, reaching up to place a cold kiss to my forehead. It seemed to foreign, letting this man into my life who has made it a living hell. He has become almost like a partner to me.

Almost like family.

"What kind of gifts are you talking about?" I asked as William chuckled lightly to himself as he opened the door.

"The opportunity to drink from the cup of immortality."

* * *

_"Commissioner Gordon, we have a problem."_

_"What is it?"_

_"It's.. it's that Jason Todd kid. He's waiting for you at the front desk. Lee picked him up off the side of the road, and he's shaken up about something. We all tried to talk to him but- he just won't." Jason pulled his legs up to his chest in a effort to stop himself from shaking. The police commissioner went over to the boy and rested a hand on his back. _

_"Come on son. Let's get you into my office and we can talk." Jason looked up at him, nodding as he was led into the office. He looked too small in the chair, sitting in front of the desk as the commissioner sat across from him, pulling the coffee cup to his lips. _

_"Nice place you got here, Comish'" Jason commented, his usual arrogant voice now sounding shaken and unordinary._

_"Thank you. Now.. are you going to tell me why you're shaking worse then a Chihuahua during a thunder storm?"_

_"Nope'" he replied. "Because if nothin' is wrong, you'll send me back on my way and leave me the hell alone."_

_"In this condition? Look at yourself, kid. When is the last time you ate anything; a good decent meal? You're beginning to look like skin and bone." He studies the boys eyes with a frown. "Where is your mom? Isn't she looking after you?" He receives a glare from the kid, who rubs his eyes in what looks like exhaustion. When Jim said he looked like skin and bone, he was just _barely_ scratching the surface. Jason looked _exhausted_, hungry, even bruised up and broken. And if Jim didn't do something soon, he just knew that he'd find his body on the streets one day. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. "You can talk to me... I can help you."_

_"Nobody can help me, Gordon," Jason said, his voice low. "I've learned to take care of myself, okay? I didn't come to see you over my situation. I know about that drug deal... the massacre from last night. I heard Officer Lee talking about it in the car, that there were no survivors from both sides; but I know the truth."_

_"The truth? Jason, I'm not quite sure what you're getting at."_

_"You think there was just two mob parties there; there was another. They- they killed my _friend_. I-I watched him get killed in cold blood." A slight shudder ripples through the boy as he pulls his knees back up to his chest._

_"Are you confessing to witnessing the drug deal... last night?" Jason nodded, closing his eyes as he bit his lip. "Where were you when this was going on?" He pulled out a tissue box from the drawer, sighting a tear that had escaped the boy's eye. He locks eyes with Jason; noticing the horrified look in his eyes._

_The kid was _terrified_ about something, and Jim knew he had to get to the bottom of it. _

_"I was walking... walking home; it was late and getting cold. I didn't know that Fred was involved in that kind of thing, and I saw him standing around with a bunch of men. I didn't want to get in between whatever was going on with them, and then when I saw the guns... I hid in the nearest alley I could. But _that's_ when I saw them; the two men. In masks."_

_"We have plenty of those in Gotham, son."_

_"I know you're talking about the batman. But- these two, they weren't on the same side as the Bat... they're evil. They had glowing eyes... helmets that resembled _owls_. I think if they had seen me... I would have been dead. They have shown no mercy to the people they killed, and I can't get that image out of my head. Gotham is unsafe enough with the horrible people that live here to begin with; crooks, liars, drug dealers... but... this is just too much." He's picking at the jacket that he had snugly around his shoulders. _

_"Okay, I'll look more into this, alright? In the meantime, let's take you back ho-"_

_"No!" Jason jumped out of his seat, stuffing his arms back through the arms of the jacket. "I can, I can go home myself. I came here by myself, didn't I?" Jim narrowed his eyes at the boy; something was up, obviously. "_Please_, I can take care of myself."_

_After a small argument with the commissioner, Jason ended up sitting in the cop car next to Jim as they drove through Crime Alley and up to the apartment building. Jason already knew that Jim would notice the padlock on the door, and the eviction notice in the window. Gordon didn't even look at the kid, because he knew what Jason had been hiding all along._

_"How long, son? You could've come to me, said _something_. You didn't have to live like this."_

_"I can take care of myself!"_

_"I'm afraid, even if I did believe whole-heartedly that you could... I have to report this. I need to take you to a group home, at least until we can figure out what happened to your mother, or where she went." It was then that the commissioner noticed the tears that were welding up in Jason's eyes before he wiped them away with the back of his coat sleeve. He hesitantly places a hand on Jason's shoulder. _

_"You won't- find her, I mean. She's not coming back." _

_The commissioner didn't know what he can tell Jason, especially because he knew Jason knows better. It's not like Jim could never see it coming; he's been there when his father beat him senseless, and when his mother drank herself into a hospital. Jason's home life was nothing close to perfect, and it caused the youngster to grow up fast. For a ten year old, Jason had the kind of wisdom that would knock anybody off their feet. They drove in silence back to the police station, and before Jason knew it, they were leaving again to put Jason into a home. 'Why call it a home,' Jason wondered to himself. 'Home is where you have parents that love you, and would protect you from harm. It's where your father pats you on the shoulder over a job well done and where your mother's arms are the warmest and most amazing place to be in the world.' He never _had_ a home, not one like that anyway. Fred was more of a family member then his own parents, and now that he was gone..._

_Jason felt lost, alone. Scared, even. He clutched onto his jacket tightly when he was in the group home office, sitting next to Gordon._

_"He's a good kid, M'am. I know he won't cause trouble. I might come check up on him from time to time, if that's alright with you. I want to make sure he's okay."_

_"That's perfectly alright." the woman replied, looking at Jason through her oversized glasses. "Jason, let me take you to your room. You'll be sharing it with two brothers; Kyle and John. They'll be thrilled to have a new roommate." Jim waved when she escorted him out of the office, taking his leave._

_He still had a few hours before he had to be home, but he couldn't help stopping by the small apartment. Being in the group home always found a way to rattle his system. So many kids there didn't have families like he did, and it made him appreciate the two greatest people that were in his life. He quickly made his way up the staircase and through the door; looking at the faces of his children. James; 21, sitting over a plate of bacon and eggs. Barbara, his daughter who had just turned 18, peered at him through the archway to the kitchen._

_"Dad? We didn't think you'd be home so soon." She took off the ovenmits, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. Jim couldn't help but walk over, rapping his arms around her small frame. "D-Dad?"_

_"Is everything okay?" James asked, placing a hand onto his father's shoulder._

_"I'm just... I love you guys, and I just needed to come home and tell you both that. Food for thought before going to school, huh?" He caught Barbara's small smile as she hugged onto him tighter. In the back of his mind, it killed him deeply that Jason couldn't have something like this._

_Seriously, killed him._

* * *

"Master Bruce, I have the car outside, ready for you whenever you need to leave. I must tell you that you have a press conference later today after your little... visit at the (name of group home here)." Alfred paused at the door to the sight of Bruce looking at himself in the mirror, closing the black jacket to his suit with a frown on his face. "Is everything all right sir."

"Everything is fine," he told him simply. "Except for the fact that while I was in Arkham, a massive drug deal turned mob hit occurred and I wasn't _there_ to _stop it_." The male picked up his cell phone and placed into the jacket pocket before turning to look at Alfred.

"Sir, I'm afraid I must be the bearer of bad news, and tell you that you are incapable of being in two places at once. The Scarecrow is in Arkham Asylum, and that's good news. And, even though she's under a cowl much like yours, you can't trust that girl to stop a drug deal of that stature."

"Batgirl, Alfred? I know. She's a _child_. She was probably asleep when the drug hit went down." Bruce grabbed his keys, fumbling them around in his hand before walking with Alfred down the hall. "I'll be back tonight, if you need me, call." He walks briskly over to his Lamborghini and settled into his seat.

This thing he did once every couple of months; making this trip over to one of Gotham's most popular group homes, always made him somewhat _edgy_. He did this because he could relate in many ways to the pain these kids were going through, and he could be an example that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. He took the time to sit and talk with them, and then leave giving the organization a rather hefty check in his name. It was sad to admit that some of these kids would end up in some really bad foster homes, or adopted by people who just wanted money. He pitied them, and at times he went back home and sat in his big empty house with just himself and Alfred and wonder why he didn't just adopt a few. They'd have a better life, wouldn't they? But then it goes back to his secret, hiding behind the clock, under the house.

He protected so many people so they could live their lives with just a little less fear. Even though he'd never admit it, sometimes he felt like that mission that drives him to the point of exhaustion most nights, is holding him back from living his _own_ life. Then he pushes that thought aside, and forgets about it until he visits the group home again. Gotham City needs Batman, especially the kids who needed somebody to believe in; somebody bigger then Bruce Wayne could ever be.

One of the real reasons he was going to the orphanage, however, was because of the news Jim Gordon gave him the evening prior. The Bat Symbol was turned on like it usually was when he met with the Commissioner, but what surprised him was the news Gordon was told, by none other then Jason Todd. The kid that tried to steal the wheels off his car, and was a key witness to a mob hit. He didn't want to bother asking questions on what the kid was doing there, because knowing Jason to be a kid off the streets, he had a couple of conclusions to jump to.

Not that those were conclusions he really wanted to jump to.

_"He saw the other group of people, but... well, the only thing I could really come to-" he drags a hand up to his forehead, massaging his temples. "is urban legend."_

_"What kind of urban legend?" His voice came out like gravel. The wind picks up on the rooftop and he notices the way Jim shivers, even under his coat. Winter was coming and was draping the city in it's chill. _

_"The only one that still scares Gotham. Batman... he mentioned that these men looked like owls. Surely, you've heard of those assassins; the Talons. To be honest, I didn't think they existed... but it would explain a lot."_

_"A lot."_

_"Yeah, all those police cases that have gone unsolved. They all seemed like mob hits... but I never thought, or even assumed that myth could be reality. I'm going to keep digging, but... I'd just keep an eye open."_

And now Bruce was peering into a room of children, running around with toys and paint brushes; but one kid in particular caught his eye. Jason had separated himself from the rest of the kids, choosing instead to peer out the window.

"I'll just leave you in here with them. I'm sure many of them will be thrilled to talk to you again. If you need anything, Mr. Wayne, I'll be in my office." Bruce gave her the slightest of nods and made his way over to the window seat.


End file.
